


The Moments of Happiness

by Sashaya



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, no beta we die like peter, not Lydia Martin friendly, not Scott McCall friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28286409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashaya/pseuds/Sashaya
Summary: One stormy night changes Stiles life. Mostly for the better.Can one little kitten push Stiles towards blue-eyed love?-Tags will be updated along with the story!
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 33
Kudos: 164





	1. Come Home with Me

**Author's Note:**

> _**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own any of the characters. __
> 
>  **Warning** : Unbeta work. Any 'you did this wrong' type of critcism is only welcome [HERE](https://sharktofu.tumblr.com/).

Everything changes during one stormy night. Well, that's a bit overdramatic, but mostly right. Kinda.

The rain is pouring down on Stiles, who spent most of the night running through the pixie-overrun forest with his trusty bat. 

He's tired, he's hungry and he's so soaked his socks are now new layer of his skin. 

Aaaand he hears a meow.

That heart-wretching, small, pathetic meow that he knows he cannot ignore. He wants to, he's covered in pixie guts and he has an exam tomorrow morning (today). He just wants to leave and collapse on his bed in all his drowned glory.

The meow repeats, even smaller this time.

Stiles spins on his heels, throwing droplets of water around him, and stares in the emerald green eyes of a cat.

(He lets out a sigh of relief, because it would be just his luck if it turned out there's no cat, but something really Stiles-hungry.)

Actually, it looks more like a kitten with how tiny the little beastie is. Its black fur clings to its frail-looking body and he looks positively miserable, but its tail wags from side to side like an angered cobra.

Stiles is fucked. Totally, completely fucked.

"Here kitty, kitty," he coos at the kitten as he slowly drops to his knees. For a split second he thinks about mud and his poor jeans, but in the end his whole outfit is beyond saving. 

Lydia would be pleased.

"What do you even say to get the cat?" he muses, when the kitten keeps meowing from a safe distance. It's pathetic, seriously. "Come here, little dude. I've got an old tee calling your name... I can even throw in my pillow, but only if you come right now so we don't have to drown in this goddamn rain."

Whether were it Stiles' _warm and careful_ words or maybe the sudden lightning that struck nearby, but finally the little stray jumps - first in fear and then into Stiles' open arms. In a flash the kitten finds its way under his hoodie.

"Ungrateful bastard," Stiles hisses, when little claws come out to play. He peers under the fabric and the little darkness stares right back at him. It even starts purring. "Damn, you're cute."

He left the car at home, so they have to carefully make it out of the forest and back into the civilization on foot.

"You're cute and you know it, little heartbreak," Stiles baby-talks the whole trek home, completely blasé how crazy he might look. He stopped caring years ago, he's not gonna start now. _Too little, too late and all that._

The house is dark and empty, but at least it's warm and dry. The clock on the wall laughs at Stiles, showing it's almost 4 am.

"Rude," he mutters under his breath. His father must still be on his night shift, _which makes sense as it's still night. Duh._

Stiles drips water everywhere, walking to the bathroom, but there's nothing he can actually do about it right now. 

The hot shower calls him by name, but so is his hoodie. Well, not quite. He'd probably have a heart attack, if the cat called him by his given name. 

He sighs, deep and resigned, and strips out of his clothes, gently extracting the kitty. He then starts to very carefully dry its little body. 

"I'm gonna take you to Deaton later and hope to fuck you're not chipped," he tells the tiny furball, who is set on catching his fingers with its baby paws. "It'd be really stupid to murder someone over a cat."

The kitten looks up and blinks at him with its big green eyes. Somehow it looks offended.

"Of course I would, what are you, stupid?" he snorts and the cat rubs against his fingers. "I'm just saying it'd be stupid, not that I won't do it."

The beastie yawns at Stiles and he cannot stop himself from dropling a soft kiss on the top of its head. The little ears twitch and Stiles melts. 

"You need a name, little terror," he decides, gathering the cat in his arms and moving to the kitchen. He drops it on the floor and watches fondly as it scurries around the room, sniffing everything.

Stiles looks through their dishes, searching for something to put in some food for the cat. He emerges victorious with a shallow bowl that would be perfect and pours in some milk. He puts it on the floor near the kitten and it trips over its little paws, running to the bowl. 

Stiles heart grows three times. _He hates it._

His new baby dives in and Stiles coos at it, completely lovestruck. Sue him, he gets attached quickly - he deserves it for single-handedly getting rid off of the murderous pixies, while he should be studying for his Psych exam.

"What about Taylor?" he asks, rummaging through the fridge. He doesn't know what's suitable to eat for kittens, but he can't let the little guy starve. Or girl. "You need a gender neutral name, because... Well, because I said so, so there's that."

"Maybe Charlie? Like Weasley, because you can be a magical cat. It wouldn't be the strangest thing that happened in my life," he finds some bacon strips. Not turkey, so he needs to have another long talk with his father. Though, they're perfect (probably) for his new housemate. "Okay, you're not a Weasley. Obviously. Hmmm... What about Ezra?"

It must be it, because the kitten looks up from his bowl - from the strips of delicious meat, and that reminds Stiles, how hungry he is - and rubs against Stiles' outstretched hand. 

_Stiles' heart thwas and he hates it. Gods, but the cat is adorable._

He sits there, starstruck, staring at the little furball, when his phone rings. He runs to the bathroom, where he left it, cursing whoever might be calling him. 

Turns out, noone is. It's his alarm, reminding him to _get the fuck up_ , because he has an hour-long drive to get to the campus. 

That's what he gets for spending time at his dad's, when his landlord takes care of the lack of heating in his flat.

"Fuck," he swears, looking at the time. "Ezra, pack your bags, we're going shopping!"

He sprints around the house, collecting his stuff and cursing all the known gods, while Ezra happily munches on the becon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the musical "Hadestown".


	2. Waving Through the Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wonders about friendships and listens to Peter's laugh. Some obliviousness is _obviously_ required.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen with his bag packed and Ezra happily rubbing against his legs, Stiles immediately understands three things at the same time:

  1. He pulled an all-nighter before his exam and NOT because he was studying (it’s not that big of a problem, but Stiles still feels miffed, no, he’s pissed at that);
  2. He has no litter box OR a carrier bag for Ezra;
  3. He has to take Ezra with him, as in walk with him into the exam, because he _HAS NO TIME TO DO ANYTHING, BUT DRIVE_. 



He really should start thinking before reacting, but what’s the fun in that? 

( _ How can it save you, when you’re being hunted? _ )

“Ezra, baby, I promise I’ll get you the best toys and more later, but right now…” he opens his other bag, where he already put the softest of his shirts and looks pleadingly at his cat. “Hop in!”

The car glances at the bag and then levels Stiles with an unimpressed look. He meows unhappily. 

It looks like Stiles will have to bribe the little beastie, but then Ezra wags his tail once, twice, and finally jumps into the bug. In seconds he’s buried under the clothes, only his precious button-like nose visible. 

“I love you, I’ll spoil you later, I promise!” he zips the bag halfway, grabs the rest of Dad’s (illegal) bacon stash, and books it. 

He tries a few times to call Scott, then Lydia, hoping one of them can pick up and  _ help him out at least once in their goddamn lives _ . All his calls go straight to voicemail. Of course. 

‘Typical,’ he thinks bitterly, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. ‘They had all the time to tell me about pixies, but no time to check if I’m alive, huh? And while they’re still riding the  _ protect the token human  _ train.’

“Fuck them,” he spits out suddenly, and Ezra meows in confusion. He gently hushes the kitten. “Not you, furball. You’re the best of them.”

His fingers are white with how hard he’s squeezing the steering wheel and he feels like a wire ready to snap. 

“Do you think we have time for Starbucks?” he asks Ezra when his stomach growls loudly. He thinks fondly of his double espresso and maybe an egg sandwich… Ezra purrs quietly and Stiles sighs heavily. “Yeah, I didn’t think so…”

He’s about 10 minutes from the campus, when his phone suddenly rings, waking up Ezra. The cat blinks at the device and yaws, his jaw unhinges like a snake. 

Stiles puts the call on the speaker, not bothering to look at the caller ID. 

“I hope it’s you, Scotty, because I might commit murder!”

“ _ Terribly sorry, darling, but I’m not your  _ _ favorite _ _ True Alpha _ ,” the voice on the other end is deep and dripping with sarcasm. Stiles cannot help, but smile. 

“You’re my favorite Creeper-wolf, tho,” he says. Peter hums on the other end and warmth spills inside Stiles’ chest and belly. 

He ignores it. 

He’s good at it. 

“ _ I was just informed of your little night escapade. Are you okay, darling? _ ”

“I’m fine,” Stiles rolls his eyes. He steals a glance at his kitten, who is silently staring at the phone. 

“ _ Stiles… _ ” Peter sounds worried and normally he’d take it as a jab at his abilities, but… but Ezra makes him weak. Yes, that’s the correct answer. 

_ Nothing more, nothing less _ . 

“I solemnly swear I’m unharmed,” Stiles promises. “I’m extremely uncaffeinated and unsleep-able, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“ _ Un-slee… Darling, why are you driving, when you’re exhausted? _ ” it’s annoying how easy Peter reads him, even from half a country away. 

Stiles parks as close to the Psychology department as possible and leans back. 

“I’m not anymore. Driving, I mean,” he rubs at his eyes and winces. He forgot about the scraps on his hands. 

“... _ darling? _ ” 

“Wha-... I’m here, I’m here!” he looks at the time, panic spreading over him. He slumps in relief, seeing he still has 15 minutes left. “Sorry, Peter, I have an exam soon and as far as I know, my prof doesn’t take a ‘spent whole night fighting murderous pixies’ as a reason for exemption. Yet. I think… Hmmm…”

Peter’s chuckle makes it almost worth the whole nightmare of a night. 

“Sorry, babe, but I gotta go. TTYL, bye!”

“ _ Stiles, I…, _ ” he disconnects the call, not noticing Peter still talking. He stares at the phone and shrugs. 

“Gonna call him later and apologize. Maybe,” he yaws and looks lovingly at Ezra’s peeking head. He gently pushes it inside and boops the cat on the nose. “Come on, terror. Gotta explain to prof Brown, why you’re with me… At least some  _ muggle _ version of it… Think, she’s gonna buy you’re my service animal?”


	3. I'll Cover You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A show of kindness and friendship. Stiles cannot deal with emotions, especially his own. Erica and Boyd make an appearance and coo over the Cuteness Overlord, Ezra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: No Beta. 
> 
> I decided to be more explicit with my dislike for both Lydia and Scott, so I'm sorry if it's not your cup of tea. I've updated the tags. Sorry again!  
> Also, I believe Boyd might feel a little OOC, but I do love him as a soft (and alive) character, so I'm gonna treat myself.

It goes well, surprisingly. Well, maybe not the muggle version of how he spent his night, but thankfully prof. Brown understands the animal kind of emergency way too well. 

She demands Stiles take Ezra out of the bag and puts it on her lap. The little terror blinks at her a few times, a picture of complete cuteness and innocence, and yawns. He then proceeds to knead his little paws on her pencil skirt - making both Stiles and prof. Brown coo - and almost immediately falls asleep. 

Stiles throws Ezra a jealous look before moving to his seat. He can hear prof. Brown whisper sweet nothings behind his back. 

It won’t be a lie to say that Stiles doesn’t remember any of the questions or what kind of answers he put down. He knows - on more of a spiritual level than any other, which is kind of worrying - that he filled every page, so at least there’s that.

What comes after, comes after and Stiles is way, way too tired to care right now. 

“Enjoyed yourself?” Stiles asks Ezra, who’s trying to catch professor Brown’s ( _ Emily, she told him to call her Emily, when not in class, what?? _ ) fingers, jumping on her desk. 

“He’s so precious,”  _ Emily _ coos at the kitten and scratches behind his ear. “Also very calm. I’m really surprised.”

“Me too,” Stiles answers. “I’ll try to see a vet today. Maybe he’s just naturally low-key?”

‘ _ Not with my luck… _ ’ he thinks, barely stopping himself from voicing it out loud. 

“If you don’t have a place in mind, go to the clinic on Oak Street,” Emily suggests, reluctantly handing Ezra over. “My wife’s the vet there, she should be able to take an emergency visit.”

It feels juvenile, but Stiles does a little victory dance inside his head hearing the word ‘ _ wife _ ’. His queer little heart always loves learning about proud of happy LGBTQ+ people. Makes him a little bit lighter and hopeful. 

“Oak Road, yes?” he confirms the address and puts it in his phone. “Do they take walk-ins?”

“I have no idea,” she admits. “Probably yes. It’s not some  _ Big Money ™ Clini _ c” she shrugs and Stiles can hear the italics in her voice. 

He adores this woman. 

“Thanks again for your help,” Stiles bids her goodbye and slowly makes his way to the car. 

His next class is in the evening so he should have enough time to visit the clinic and do some cat-shopping. 

He almost melts into the seat, when he reaches his reliable Jeep. The exhaustion he feels spreads into his bones and there’s no way he can drive in this state. Before? Yeah, he was still running on adrenaline, and while his usual ‘ _ benders _ ’ span more than 24 hours, he never drives during them. 

He pulls out his phone and quickly dials a familiar number. 

“ _Hello, baby, how can I help you?_ ” a flirtatious voice comes through after a few signals. 

“Actually, I wanted your boyfriend…”

“ _ Am I not good enough for you, baby? _ ”

“Erica, please, I’m tired as fuck and I still have to keep going,” Stiles snaps. He immediately feels bad about it. “Sorry, Catwoman, I love you.”

“ _ Love you too, Batsy _ .  _ I’ll forgive you if you tell me what’s up _ .”

“Later? But say, are you or Boyd on the campus? I need to make some trips, but I don’t wanna drive right now.”

Stiles can hear Erica turn from the phone and murmur something to (most likely) her boyfriend. He waits patiently, running his fingers through Ezra’s black fur. 

“ _ We’re both in the cafe by the library, so we can meet with you in 10-15 minutes? Where are you exactly? _ ”

“Right by the Psychology department, on the east side. If you walk through the building you should come out straight at me.”

“ _ Cool. We’ll pay and be right there. Ciao, Batsy! _ ” she disconnects and Stiles is suddenly hit by the realization that he probably disturbed their date. 

He feels bad, he knows that between Erica’s med classes and Boyd’s early education ones they don’t have much time for themselves. 

It still feels so good,  _ so warm _ to know that he has friends, who will drop everything to help him out.

‘ _ Unlike certain someones _ ’, he thinks bitterly. 

Stiles doesn’t like thinking badly about his friends or people who he associates with because life is life, and  _ shit happens _ . They’re all adults now. Though, there is some bad aftertaste left by Scott and Lydia, who somehow always have time to dump their problems on Stiles’ lap and expect him to magically fix them. 

“Whatever,” Stiles mutters angrily and rubs his eyes. Ezra meows at him loudly and gently nibbles at his outstretched fingers. “Don’t worry, kitty cat. I’m gonna spoil you rotten, you’ll see.”

A sudden knock at the driver’s window makes him jump up in fear and hit his head on the roof. The chuckle he can hear outside, as he massages his poor head, is familiar. Very familiar. 

“Why,” he doesn’t really ask, stepping out of the car. 

Erica is beaming at him with a wide, feral smile, while Boyd rolls his eyes at them both. 

“Because,” is her cheerful answer. She’s a perfect picture of joy personified: rocking on the soles of her feet, her blonde curls bouncing around and brown eyes shining with mischief. “Hi, Batsy.”

“Hi, Eri,” Stiles sighs and presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “Thanks for the free heart attack.”

“Always happy to help!”

Boyd leans down a little bit and allows Stiles to give him a quick kiss as well. 

“Hello, Prince Charming,” he smiles at the man with adoration in his eyes. 

“Why can’t you greet me like this?” Erica pouts. She drapes herself over Stiles’ lanky frame and squishes their cheeks together. 

He jabs her in the side, making her squeak loudly in his ear, and let go of him. 

“Because,” he answers with a shit-eating grin. 

A tiny meow comes from the Jeep and they all turn their heads in sync. 

“Oh. My. God!” Erica whisper-yells, crouching by the open door. She’s trying not to scare Ezra, who slowly makes his way out of the front seat. “So cute. I just…! Is it yours?”

“He is now,” Stiles nods. “That’s why I gotta do some shopping. I didn’t even have a carrier for him!”

“Oh, you poor baby,” Erica coos at the furball, which is now sniffing at her fingers. “Your daddy doesn’t have anything for you, huh?”

“Where did you pick it up?” Boyd speaks up, a soft expression on his face. Stiles isn’t sure if it’s aimed at the cat or Erica. 

“Beacon Hills,” Stiles says, something dark and venomous in his voice. 

“Why?” Erica looks away from Ezra and levels Stiles with a questioning gaze. “Didn’t you have an exam today?”

“Yep,” he pops his ‘p’ with annoyance. “Spent the whole night running after goddamn pixies, then jumped right into one of my most important tests on the year. Cool, right?”

“Why?” Boyd repeats after his girlfriend. He looks pointedly at Stiles. “Scott or Lydia?”

“Both,” he sighs and leans on the man. “They called me yesterday about the pixies and how they had to deal with them.”

“Couldn’t they do it?” Erica is now holding Ezra in her arms and the cat looks extremely pleased with himself. 

“You know what’s the best part?” he can feel Boyd’s strong hands on his shoulders, slowly massaging him. “They said they would join me a bit later, because of Scott’s test. And Dad wasn’t picking up, so I just packed for the night and…”

“Sped your way through.”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs. “Boyd, can you drive? I trust you with my baby…”

“Where to?”

“Vet on Oak Street, please!” Stiles slides into the backseat, while Erica makes her way to the passenger seat with Ezra purring in her arms. He smiles at them and reaches to scratch his head. “His name is Ezra, by the way.” 

The blonde terror sends him a questioning look but says nothing, just keeps peppering the cat with kisses. 

It’s such a shame that Stiles is gay. Ezra seems to be a lady-bait. 

The thought makes him giggle, which seems to be swiped under his sleep deprivation, judging by Boyd’s worried gaze in the rearview mirror. He sends him a thumbs up and leans back. He closes his eyes and the murmurs of his friends’ conversation lulls him to sleep. 

Stiles jerks suddenly, when they park and Boyd apologizes quietly. 

“No, it’s fine,” he mumbles, trying to kick his brain into working. “I still have to take the little terror to the doctor.”

“Erica’s fine.”

“I’m fine.”

The immediate replies make Stiles laugh and he’s sure they planned it. He doesn’t mind it. 

He uses Boyd’s explanation as to why,  _ yes Erica you have to let go of the kitten _ , and sends Peter a quick text. 

_ I’m alive. Maybe got some brownie points for the cat. Boyd’s driving me, so don’t worry too much. See you soon, Creeper Wolf <3 _

He looks up to Boyd proudly holding Ezra and Erica pouting in the background. 

“Thanks,” he nuzzles into the fur and reaches for his wallet. He hands Boyd a twenty. “I ruined your date earlier, so you can at least get coffee while you wait.”

“Keep it,” Boyd steps back without touching the money. He’s learned about Stiles’ clever fingers when he keeps missing his home keys and finding them in Stiles’ hoodies. “What are friends for.”

“Don’t make me cry in the middle of the street, man,” Stiles fake sniffs, only barely joking. 

Boyd leaves him with a roll of his eyes and a very soft smile. It makes Stiles feel warm. 

_ Disgusting _ . 

The vet visit is thankfully very quick and very satisfying. They take walk-ins and there’s literally no queue. Still, while he waits, he spins a normal version of how he found the cat to the tattooed receptionist. As suspected, the man is a softy and the almost-sob story (still very true, just pixie-free) finds them a small discount. Stiles doesn’t expect that, but it’s a nice gesture. 

The doctor, who checks Ezra over, is a middle-aged woman with dark hair, tightly pulled into a bun. Stiles doesn’t catch her name, but she has a wedding ring, and he wonders if it’s the infamous wife. He hopes so. She’s very no-nonsense but radiates with motherly warmth. She makes sure Ezra is a healthy, six-month-old boy and (as Stiles hoped) not chipped. 

He’s leaving a 5-star review on Yelp for sure. 

“You’re back!” Erica jumps them when they make it out the door. She’s holding a sweet monstrosity of a coffee, that Stiles would give his first-born for, and a bag. 

“Yep,” he says awkwardly, his eyes glued to the red backpack, that seems to have some kind of… window? In the front? It looks plastic and has three holes on each side. It looks… kind of space travel ready. “What’s…?”

“Here!” Erica pushes the pack at Stiles with happiness. “I know you want to get Ezra everything yourself, but we saw it and thought it’s gonna be easier than your bag!”

“Oh,” Stiles blinks rapidly a few times, tears gathering in his eyes. He’s gonna blame it on exhaustion because he’s not sure this little kind gesture won’t make him cry publicly. “Thank you?”

“Your welcome!” she grabs Ezra from him and Boyd steps in, holding a drink very similar to Erica’s. 

“For you,” he’s fully smiling as he hands Stiles the coffee and takes the carrier from him, so Erica can convince Ezra to get in. He doesn’t even blink, when Stiles bawling, just gently gathers him in his arms and holds him. Erica stays back, petting Stiles’ hair and whispering little encouragements for Ezra. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Boyd says when Stiles calms down. He keeps him in a hug for a few more seconds. 

“We’re friends, Batman,” Erica smiles at him and it’s too many emotions at once, Stiles might get an allergic reaction or something. 

He pulls away and smiles at them - it looks a little watery, but it’s genuine. 

“Thanks,” he gathers Ezra - now a happy owner of a very spaceship-like carrier - and the coffee. “Want to join us for some shopping or do you want to bail?”

“What do you need, Batman?”

_ A nap _ , he thinks.  _ And about a year to process all of this,  _ he doesn’t say. 

“I need at least a litter box for the space cat.”

“Then let’s deal with this first and then we’ll get you to your shoebox,” Erica decides, Boyd happily following her orders. 

“Not a shoebox,” Stiles mutters under his breath. She still hears him. 

“Say it again, when you can invite more than two people at once,” she sticks her tongue at her and, of course, he does the same. 

“Behave,” Boyd tells them but adds one more thing before turning the radio on. “She’s right.”

“Betrayal!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cat backpack in question: [SPACE CAT](https://www.etsy.com/pl/listing/863920105/cat-backpack-transparent-carrying-bag?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=cat+backpack+carrier&ref=sr_gallery-1-1&from_market_listing_grid_organic=1&pro=1&col=1).
> 
> This chapter ran "a little bit" away from me.


End file.
